The Devil's Playtime
by Demonic Charm
Summary: There has always been an evil presence linked to every nation who ever existed. Many are content to merely whisper into their ears and watch the havoc from the sidelines. Until now. One has broken free from its constraints in Hell and taken over its country's form. But the change is only temporary. It needs to seal a bond with another in order to remain on Earth. [USUK]
1. Chapter 1

**This story is dedicated to VillainEdward for being a good friend, good listener, and one heck of a roleplayer.**

* * *

Circular drops coated the concrete one by one; fat ones, thin ones, small ones, but only enough for those walking by to look up from their thoughts, tut at the Heavens, and grumble about inaccurate weather reports before rushing off, eager to get to their destinations dry. Their success rate plummeted as the darker clouds swarmed over and gave out a nasty growl. The weather, one slow walker noted, had been like this for the last two days - ever since... It arrived. It, he decided, was the ideal name for the creature because, quite frankly, he had no idea what it was and he wasn't so sure he even wanted to know.

A splatter hit the lens of his glasses, causing him to flinch and then frown. He lowered his head and tugged up his coat collar to keep the back of his neck dry. It had appeared from nowhere, he remembered. It just came out of the blue one night when Alfred was closing his bedroom curtains. He had seen It standing in his garden, staring up at the house, and had given him... Well, It hadn't done anything. It had just been a blurry winged shadow and strange glowing blue eyes that appeared almost familiar. Just by picturing them, he shivered. After stumbling back into bed, he had prayed it would be a one time thing but the young American realised he had had only his first scare from It that night.

The other encounters were equally terrifying. Alfred had been at work in the White House when he saw It again standing in the corridor briefly. And again when he stepped out of the shower and spotted It gazing back in the mirror but, when he had turned around, there had been nothing behind him. And just this morning... Tony began to speak of another lurking around. The alien didn't sound too concerned but Alfred knew from watching movies with him that Tony didn't understand the horrors that lurked in the dark on Earth. Horrors that could steal your very life force...

"Get a grip..." he whispered, his voice drowned out by the sound of the traffic and endless chatter passers-by. "You've seen too many scary movies. That's it. You watched one too many and now seeing hallucinations... Oh god, I'm turning into Britain! I'm freaking seeing shit! I'm going to grow huge eyebrows next!" he wailed in despair, causing many to give him a strange look before walking on to put greater distance between them. Unaware of this, he stopped in the middle of the path and inhaled a deep breath of the polluted city air.

There was a swish of wings and Alfred jumped and shrunk back. Shielding his glasses from the rain, Alfred peered over at the source of the sound. A pigeon was resting upon a street sign as it bobbed its head around. Laughing from his scare, Alfred watched it take flight again. It soared in front of the skyscrapers and over the cars and pass an alley where a shadowy figure was lurking.

Fuck.

Alfred held his breath. Though his vision became blurred by the raindrops, Alfred could make out those glowing blue eyes. There was no doubt who it was. From across the street, Alfred stood transfixed on the shadow as It began to take a stronger and clearer shape of a muscular form with thick black hair. It was wearing torn jeans and... a black version of Alfred's favourite old bomber jacket completed with the fur collar and engraved images.

Goosebumps pricked his skin and his mouth went dry. Alfred's body froze completely as he found himself staring at... himself. Only, it couldn't be him. He looked highly similar but... Th-there was no way. R-right?

The figure smiled just as a bus shot through their path of vision. When the vehicle passed, the clone was gone.

Alfred stared. Maybe it was a fun house mirror standing there that someone set up as a joke? He cautiously made his way across the road and gazed down the alleyway. No mirror in sight and those eyes were peering at him from the other end. Alfred's hand gripped upon the jagged brick edge of the wall. Those eyes continued to stare at him for a few moments then vanished around the corner.

Just what was _It_? A vampire? A ghost? A shape-shifter? A creature hell-bent on taking his soul and devouring his body like in those gory films he constantly watched?

No… He was being foolish. There was no way it was anything other than a jerk trying to mess with his head: a jerk that's trying to lead him into a wild goose chase. He narrowed his eyes and placed his hand into the inside of his coat. He pulled out his pistol and took off the safety. This asshole was going to learn that hard way what happened when people messed around with the United States of America.

Alfred will get his questions answered even if he had to pound It to the pavement with his brute strength till blood ran down into the sewers below.

With that in mind, he bolted down the alleyway.

The cloned dark creature was not in sight but Alfred kept a look out for any sign of those eyes. It would not be escaping him. He'd spend the whole night out here if he had to even if it meant getting a helicopter to gun down every fucking part of this city until It is found.

"Where are you?!" he demanded, his voice echoing off the alley walls. "Come out, you chicken! I'll take you on with my eyes closed and one arm tied behind my back!"

The eyes appeared a short distance away, surrounded by the darkness. Alfred aimed his gun and shot once. Screams issued out immediately and people dashed away from the scene. The bullet went straight through the middle of the eyes and hit the street sign behind them. A taunting smile appeared beneath them. Alfred gritted his teeth and went to fire again but they vanished.

"Stop fucking around, coward!" Alfred screamed out into the night. He sprinted down the road, frightening people to moving aside with his gun still held up in the air. Rain was splattering his face and the thunderous roars matched the traffic zooming pass. He was forced to whip off his glasses to continue on without the smears on the lenses. He had no physically need for them anyway.

His boots splashed the puddles forming in potholes. Several cars honked at him as he dashed between them, barely avoiding a collision or two with the drivers' angry shouts following him. He didn't slow down once. It sensed that and was speeding up its movements too. Alfred barely caught glimpse of the piercing blue gaze watching him before they vanished again.

The creature was definitely toying with him. Alfred could feel the rage burning inside. No one messed with him and lived to tell the tale! From a distance he could hear the sound of sirens. They were moving closer but his legs stubbornly kept him moving on after It. Fuck the police! He'll talk to them later – not that anyone would believe him but his Government would get him out of trouble. _If_ they could catch him first.

He must have ran through the entire city and back by the time he could finally stumble to a halt. Crowds had thinned out greatly, making it easily to spot the shadow looming around, for the news of gun-wielding maniac had spread faster than his legs could run. His chest heaved. His lips were damp from his panting and his damp clothing stuck to his frozen stiff body. But not even the weather could compete against the spine-chilling fear he felt when his eyes fell onto the creature.

There It stood; just across the road. Its hands were tucked snug into the pockets of the bomber jacket it wore. Though his clone appeared solid, the rain fell straight through without a single splatter. Its gaze was locked directly onto Alfred; either uncaring for or not noticing the pistol aimed straight at its head. But its smile... that smile... that cocky, arrogant, dark smile on its face pissed Alfred off the most. Could it sense the tension and fear radiating off Alfred?

"What are you?" Alfred hissed. Raindrops were seeping down his coat and trickled along his back. His hair was plastered to his head, the cowlick no longer noticeable. He looked like a drowned rat but the expression on his face... There was a bold and intimidating aura surrounding him, making the stunned audience step back and hold their breath. No one dared to play hero and approach this maniac who was screaming at thin air.

The creature's unnatural glowing eyes were only matched by the neon green man flashing in the traffic lights. It did not answer. It didn't even move. It remained standing there with that frightening smile.

Alfred took two steps forward and fired a warning shot by Its feet. There was a scream somewhere in the crowd but still, It did not move. Alfred grinded his teeth together and aimed back for its head. "I asked you a question," he said darkly, "Who or what are you? What are you doing here in my land? Answer! Or I'll blow your fucking brains out!"

Its hand rose from a pocket. Two fingers were pressed against its palm while the other two stuck out to mime a gun. Its lips parted and Alfred barely heard the word "bang" before a deafening sound of a horn screamed into his ear.

The gun was thrown several feet into the air and landed somewhere amongst the crowd who placed their hands over their mouths and stared in nauseating horror at the sight before them.

Blood was smeared across the tarmac until the raindrops washed it away into the drains. The remaining trail led to a twisted body: broken and crushed from the heavy wheels. The damp blonde hair was lined with lumpy black matter seeping from the deep crack in the skull. The clothing was torn, revealing the tyre tread across the bare skin. It was barely recognisable for the screaming lunatic that was standing there only a few seconds ago.

Silence fell across the street. Then people began to register what happened. Scared sobs broke out in the crowd. Someone was yelling out on their phone for the emergency services whilst another was shouting for the number plate from the truck. It was a man with an umbrella who finally dared to approach but he had barely taken a couple of steps forward when the body began to rise. One arm pushed up only to break under the pressure and fall back down with a sickening crunch.

Alfred could feel nothing but burning pain. His mind couldn't even register anything that had happened. But he knew the feeling... It was familiar to all like him. Death was closing in on him and he begged it came quicker than it was. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes but the rain washed them away. He couldn't move... not even his fingers would obey his command. Each desperate breath made his chest rattle and his ribs crack and twist into his organs. The air was slowly leaving his lungs completely.

He tried to open his eyes. Lights danced around his vision; red, green, yellow, and... blue. Two orbs of blue were centred in the middle of his sight. Alfred blinked but they remained locked onto him. Two fingers were pointing down at him, blocking the sight of a large looming smirk.

_"Bang."_


	2. Chapter 2

The corridors were empty except for the odd security guard who watched him until he left their sights. He took a luxury paced stroll and waved to each of them upon passing. A dorky smile was stuck on his face. It felt good to stretch his legs after days in the hospital bed. Thank goodness for a nation's ability to heal quicker than the norm. The headaches were even gone after a week. In fact, there was no tell-tale sign upon his body that anything had happened to him at all.

He paused outside a couple of large doors. There was no security here given the risk of someone eavesdropping on the rather loud conversations held inside. Funny really, since there were times that the entire building would have heard everyone inside screaming and shouting. Actually, he could hear some loud insults being exchanged already.

Alfred chuckled and straightened up his stars and stripes tie then checked his watch (he wasn't_ that_ late) before opening the doors and strutting in. There was a brief silence and he could feel several eyes fall upon him. It was a tense enough atmosphere but Alfred's broad grin showed he either didn't feel it or didn't care. When the doors closed behind him, there was an instant uproar.

"Where have you been?!"

"It was your turn an hour ago!"

"Do you have no respect?!"

"What's your excuse this time?"

Ouch. They made it sound like this was a recurring instance. It wasn't entirely his fault. He held his hands in the air and shrugged. "Dudes, you would not believe this but -"

"If you say you were abducted by aliens -"

"- Nah, that's my next excuse. This one is real!" He protested as the exasperated sighs and scoffs began. "I was on my way here when I saw a crook drag a girl into an alley and -"

"Just sit down or get out," one snapped impatiently.

Alfred saluted them mockingly and went to his space by the other side of the room. The moment he sat down, the nations returned to their former topic. He didn't even listen to find out what he had missed from Canada who was sitting beside him. He was pouting from being told off without completing his story. It wasn't an entire lie. He did see a crook take a girl into an alley. And then he had a delicious snack after tending to the potential crime. Each time he licked his lips, he could still taste the bitterness left behind and it made him smile once more.

The American nation leant back in his chair, rocking gently on his heels. Most of the nations were drawn into the debate. It was funny watching them. Sure, each of them were allowed to give their own thoughts and opinions on the matter at hand but it was silly how they did so. None of them listened to anyone. They would all sit there, waiting for a close ally or rival to speak before responding. For example, the Nordics. The first one to begin speaking every time was Denmark. The moment he voiced his thoughts, Norway or Sweden would respond to counter his statement. Then Iceland would be dragged into it to back Norway up or Finland would try to settle the matter.

Every group was the same in that way. So while everyone was talking, very few were listening.

And for the first time in a meeting, America was not the one to shout above all others. Instead, Alfred was sitting there in silence. He crossed his arms over his chest and gazed over the scene in front of him until his eyes fell onto England. Strangely, Arthur was not caught up in a heated argument. England was drawing over his notes with his head rested on his hand. He looked lost in thought.

Alfred stared.

Gradually, England's form became tense. The pen in his hand stopped. There was a red colour forming on his cheeks. He didn't move. Alfred could hear the heartbeat pick up speed. A couple of times, the Briton looked up with false interest in what his neighbours were saying but he did not look over in Alfred's direction.

The front two legs of the chair fell back onto the floor. Alfred leant forward with his pose sub-consciously mimicking Arthur's. He picked up a pen and held the tip in his mouth. Never did his eyes leave Arthur. His teeth didn't touch the pen - only his lips - as he slowly eased it in and out of his mouth. As he did so, Arthur was going hunch over the table until his head hit the desk.

France, who was sitting beside Arthur, leant over and poked the top of the English nation's head. It was not the best move to make. Arthur's hand rose and grasped hold of Francis' tie and yanked him down with no concern over the Frenchman's well-being. Though Alfred could not see his lips, he was certain Arthur had said something for Francis looked up in his direction (not bothering to be discreet). Alfred smirked and winked. France looked back down and responded to Arthur's now obvious question.

Arthur's hand dropped from Francis' tie and raised in front of him with two fingers stuck up in rude gesture. Alfred pouted.

Giving up on Arthur for now, Alfred returned to rocking back on his seat. He checked his watch every now and then, waiting for the moment the big hand will hit the time for a coffee break. Which it did in just under ten minutes. None of the nations seem to acknowledge it though but Alfred wasn't going to stick around. He stood up and pushed in his chair.

A couple of nations looked up.

"Where are you going?"

"It's coffee time!"

"No it's not. It was only - when did it get to that time?"

The mutters of confusion went short due to the anticipation for a hot beverage with snack on the side. Squeaks of chairs repeated across the room. Alfred was barely halfway to Arthur when countries blocked his path. He frowned in annoyance and attempted to divert his way through. By the time he got to the door, Arthur was already gone and France was lingering back to, what Alfred would call, 'cock-block'.

"You and Angleterre," he said softly with a knowing smile. "You behave like two boys encountering their first crush."

Alfred disguised his annoyance with an amused smile. "Really? Is he a good lover? I am in need of a quick fuck or two."

Surprised by Alfred's blunt nature, Francis raised two perfect fair eyebrows. "Oui, if lazy and sloppy is your style."

"Maybe it is. Excuse me." Alfred brushed Francis aside and went down the corridor in search for the Briton. He probably went to the cafe area. Alfred could easily corner him there but he didn't fancy having others watch. Arthur would drink his usual amount of tea, maybe more because he was flustered, and then... would require a toilet break.

He turned on his toes and altered his direction towards the restrooms. The door swung open. It was surprisingly empty. Well, he thought with a small smile, not that surprising. Why spoil a good moment by having someone walk in? Alfred walked over to one of the sinks and turned on a tap. The water ran over his hands, cool to the touch despite it coming from the hot water tap. He ran a damp hand across his face, causing his glasses to go crooked.

Texas was removed from his face. He gazed through the lenses to the mirror, seeing his altered dark reflection staring back at him. Still damn good looking, he noted as he placed his spectacles back upon his face. His fist tightened suddenly and smashed into the glasses. Large cracks ran through, splitting off into smaller cracks, till the entire thing looked like a reflective mosaic piece with drops of dark blood left within the centre.

He held his hand over his mouth, letting the blood drip in before running his tongue across the small cuts. A minor scratch like that would be healed up within an hour at the most. His arms dropped back to the side and he peered sideways towards the door, waiting motionlessly like a statue.

His patience paid off when the door opened and Arthur stepped inside, complaining about people not knowing how to make a good cup of tea when he noticed Alfred standing there. He stopped in his tracks.

"I, er, will use a stall," he muttered, barely taking two steps when Alfred's arm blocked his path. "What the -"

"Dinner tonight?" Alfred offered with broad grin. "We can go anywhere you want."

"No." Arthur frowned and attempted to move under Alfred's arm only for Alfred to drop it down further to keep blocking him. "I have a plane to catch straight - will you move, damn it?"

"You don't have a hotel booked?" Alfred pouted again, hoping to charm over Arthur with cuteness. "We can share mine. There's a double size bed and -"

"I believe I told you no. I have important matters to attend to and I cannot waste time on needless activities like eating out." Arthur stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Move or I will make you."

Alfred ignored the threat. "Then I can take you to the airport. We can get a taxi together and -"

"Alfred. I'm warning you."

"If you don't want that, I can go back with you. I won't mind visiting Britain again."

Arthur gritted his teeth. Any other time, Arthur would love to hear Alfred trying to make plans for them but this was not a good time and he was losing his patience with the thick-headed fool. "I travel alone. Understood?"

"I can get the next flight," Alfred shrugged. "Don't bother me."

"Alfred, I swear. If you don't move this second-"

England was suddenly cut off when Alfred stepped closer. Arthur stepped back and regretted it instantly when his back hit the door. Alfred trapped him in and leant close, causing the rise of temperature in Arthur's cheeks.

"Then when?" Alfred asked impatiently.

His mind panicking, Arthur reacted without thinking. He raised his knee sharply to Alfred's groin with enough force to make Alfred stumble back. With his path cleared, Arthur darted into one of the stalls and locked it behind him.

Alfred knelt on the tiled floor. His hand grasped the rim of one of the sinks while the other held over his sore area. That was a low trick and he should have suspected England to pull off a stunt like that. Growling faintly, he pulled himself up and caught one last glimpse in the cracked mirror. Bright blue eyes peered back at him from each broken pane. Glaring darkly at it, he left the room.

* * *

Those eyes…. Those inhuman eyes…. They were the last thing he remembered before he felt himself falling deep into the darkness. It engulfed his entire body and swallowed him up then latched onto his limbs, immobilising him, while a great pressure pushed down onto his chest so he was desperately gasping for air. His mind was spinning. His imagination must be going wild for it felt… it felt…. No, his imagination played no part of it.

Hands were clawing, gripping, and squeezing his body. His eyes were darting around; trying to locate the source but it was all black. Tears ran down his face as fear touched him like it never had before. But the worst part was the silence. Only the sound of his gasps was heard – echoing out like an army of men were surrounding him.

America frantically tried to twist his arm and flex his fingers, wanting to grasp what was pinning him down. The grip in the darkness tightened so a shot of pain ran along his limp. He screamed out yet was cut off into a muffled cry. His eyes widened. This was no ordinary darkness…. Something, or somethings, were lurking in it: something that he could not see nor touch.

They were holding him down, trying to tear him apart, and stealing his every breath away from him.

A fresh sound of a shirt ripping briefly lingered. Pressure increased on his stomach. He held his breath and clenched his eyes shut. This must be a dream… Nothing but a dream. Y-yes! It had to be! H-he just fell asleep watching a freaky horror about a blue-eyed ghost and now he was having a terrible nightmare.

His stomach twisted. Physically twisted. A high pitched scream was stolen from his lips and lost amongst the darkness. Hands plunged in deep, causing his body to thrush around.

"S-stop…! STOP! L-let me go! … Help!... S-someone please h-help me…."

Yells broke into sobs until even his tears were taken from him.

America didn't know how long he was there for. Every second felt like a year. He didn't know where he was or what was happening to him. The only thing he could register was the constant pain that tore through his body.

His throat was sore. His eyes were sore. Every single part of his body was sore. Yet his stubborn pride was staying intact and mentally fought back against the pain the best it could. America gritted his teeth. He had come to accept that no one was coming to get him. He had no one to rely on except himself. And he could barely move.

He tried to focus on thinking of an escape. All things had a weakness - even the great United States of America. This thick darkness must have one too. Yet it was difficult to think of what it could be when those monsters were still trying to grab at his flesh and bone.

Darkness… What would scare darkness? If he could remove it then he might be able to see what was causing this painful torture then punch them in their faces. Light would be ideal but he had no torch, no fire, not even a match -

Wait… He did have something! Trembling from the spasms in his nervous system, his hand struggled against the holds on it and rose to his chest. His fingers awkwardly pushed inside the ripped ruined jacket. It took many attempts but, finally, he was able to get a firm enough grasp on the lighter and withdrew it out.

He pressed down his thumb on the metal grinders and pushed down. One spark emitted out then vanished. America tried again. Another fleeting spark. Then another. And another. Each vanishing milliseconds after appearing.

Pleading mentally, America pushed down hard on the metal grinders again. A tiny flame flared into action. Hand shaking, he raised the lighter as high as he could.

America instantly regretted it.

Gazing at him an inch away was a white pale face. It had large empty sockets where eyes had once been. The creature was completely bald and, as it stretched open its mouth, the left side of its bottom jaw fell apart and dangled by a piece of skin. Its tongue fell down with the tip hitting against its revealed ribcage. Unable to move, America could only stare in alarm as it reached out its stumped fingers and attempt to grasp the flame. Its touch was chilly against his skin.

The lighter jerked out of his hold and the darkness returned in a flash. America saw nothing else of the creature or its kind. Yet he could still feel them. Had he been in the ideal frame of mind, he would have noticed the pressures weakening on him. But he didn't. His mind went completely blank and he was unconscious before the lighter fell.


	3. Chapter 3

Thunder echoed across the land, confusing the British people. They were far too use to their weather changing at irregular intervals but to have a storm of this power was rare. Usually, their storms would last a matter of minutes (though the rain could last all day). It was frightful. Lightning already hit the top of chimneys and they were advised to keep inside if they could which just added to their long list of things to complain about while inside their homes.

Not everyone was taking to the warning - naturally. Impatient people who were in need for money went to work regardless of the dangers causing traffic jams. People were advised to remain in their cars in case of further lightning strikes. But the really reckless ones were those who walked outside without a concern. That was only one person who was far too use to shitty weather to care - especially since it would do him no harm at all. But it was beginning to annoy him. He longed for warm weather (admittedly, he should not have gone to Britain if he wanted that).

His backpack was drenched but he had no concern for that either. The clothes inside would be easy to dry. Very easy. Literally just one little finger movement would be all it takes. His shoes were squelching against the pavement with every step. It was fortunate he could not catch a cold - the thought never even occurred to him.

He paused by the street corner. A flash of lightning lit up the name. He was in the right spot. He tugged the backpack further up his back and walked at a slower space down the path, looking out for the number. The house arrangements changed frequently with nations due to their inability to age. Regular people would be startled and fearful to see someone who remains the same age for many decades. Which was why many chose to have their main home further away from the cities.

15...17...19...21. Bingo.

Alfred stopped outside the gate. Loud music was heard as if someone was competing against the thunderous roars from above. This plan was not going to backfire unlike yesterday. Arthur avoided him the entire time and he knew it would be meaningless to get close while there were so many distractions around. This time, it would just be them.

He walked up to the door and slung his wet bag upon the doorstep before ringing the bell. It took a couple of goes till the music stopped and he saw a blurred figure approaching. The door opened and a disgruntled Arthur stood there. To Alfred's delight, he was wearing his typical punk style clothing - including a tight pair of black jeans that revealed the legs and butt flawlessly. He clearly wasn't expecting company which delighted Alfred further.

"Britain!" he said cheerfully, pulling Arthur into a tight embrace and soaking him in the process. "I missed you!"

Arthur stuttered and shoved Alfred back. "You bloody idiot! We saw each other yesterday! Why the hell did you come here? What's going on? Why are you standing out there in a blasted rain?! Get inside before you catch a cold! You didn't even think of using a damn brolly did you? Not only did you come here unexpected, you're going to get sick and make me look after you!"

Grinning through Arthur's rants, Alfred stepped inside and dropped his bag onto the staircase. He shook his head, spraying water everywhere. Thankfully, Arthur didn't notice because he was closing the door and fussing over the water dripping onto the floor. But something made the Brit suddenly stop talking.

His eyes lingered on Alfred's clothing; damp and tightly clinging to his body, revealing muscles underneath. Every part of his body was urging him on, wanting to touch and stroke and -

He hadn't noticed how close Alfred was getting until he felt the American's breath upon his ear. "Do you like what you see? If you ask nicely, I'll take it off."

His hands held on to Arthur's upper arms, his lips grazing over Arthur's earlobe and down to the side of his neck. Alfred could feel the pulse rate increase just like before. Arthur's breath hitched and his hands shook as they raise up and clenched hold of the wet material. His head inclined to the side slightly, giving Alfred better access to the sensitive spots.

It was too easy. There was little challenge when it came to getting into a pervert's -

He stumbled back suddenly, caught off guard by Arthur's forceful shove.

"You're sick," Arthur scolded, cheeks burning red. "See what happens when you walk in weather like this. Don't you dare say another word," he warned when Alfred opened his mouth. "You march yourself up those stairs and take a hot bath. I'll find some dry clothes for you. I was going to order take out but the phone line is dead so now I'll have to heat up leftovers for us."

Alfred smirked. "I wouldn't want to ruin your stairs. I'll undress here!" Before Arthur could protest, Alfred shrugged off his jacket and then tugged the shirt over his head and dropped it down carelessly. "Want to help me with my pants? ~"

"..." Arthur smacked him around the head. "Get up those stairs now!" he threatened. "Or god forbid, I will... I will kick you back out there to freeze! And it will serve you right. Now move!"

The American pouted. His thumbs rested on his belt-buckle. "But Arrrrrrthur -"

"Piss off."

"Maybe another time then." He shrugged and winked. "The offer is up whenever you want to accept it! Just don't leave me hanging." He avoided a second slap coming his way and bolted up the stairs, three at a time while laughing cheerfully.

"Arsehole," Arthur muttered. What had possessed Alfred to behave like that? Twice now he tried to corner him into awkward situations. Maybe it was teenage hormones? Whatever it was, he hoped it would stop soon before he did something they may both come to regret. He sighed and looked sadly at the bag leaving a small puddle of rainwater. Why did everything have to be made complicated?

* * *

Everything was numb but it came as a blessing. He could no longer feel the pressures on him or the tearing of bony fingers through his flesh. His mind had stopped a long time ago to spare him the agony of what was happening to him. He was shutting down – slowly but surely. Maybe… Maybe he could die here, he had hoped. He could die and regenerate back home in the States. Please let him die and disappear far away from here… Please…

"Don't be a fool. You cannot die here. It's impossible."

A sound… A sound that didn't come from him. Was someone speaking to him? A stinging sensation shot through his head as his mind tried to jump start itself.

"You're given up already? How pathetic. I've seen mortals last longer than you. I expected more."

America opened his mouth but only a dry rasping noise came out. Just who was mocking him? He forced his eyes to open as far as they could. Still darkness. There was no sight of a new comer. The voice was a strange one: it was coming and going as though the person was drifting around instead of remaining still.

"Mocking? I can mock if you insist. It's always fun to kick when down. However, time is pressing on and I shouldn't linger any longer than I have. It's already been ten days."

No…! America thought desperately. He didn't want to be left alone with just his terrifying thoughts. He wanted out of here. He wanted to leave and never return. He wanted to be back home where his comics, video games, and hamburgers were waiting for him.

"Aww. You're so adorable when you're pleading. But… I don't give without taking. It's not in my nature. I will help you only if I receive something of equal status. Tell me… what wouldn't you pay for the price of your freedom? No… Let's leave that as a surprise for later. Would you be willing to accept my charges?"

He'll accept anything if it got him the hell out of here. Anything at all!

"Perfect. Now, hold still like a good boy."

Something was wrapping around his waist. It felt different from those hellish creatures. It was a source of warmth that made him want to reach out and hold onto with all his remaining might. Yet his body hung limp as he was slowly lifted up, slipping out of the bonds like they weren't even there. As he rose higher and higher, he could feel a faint, barely acknowledgeable, breeze. He could taste his freedom. It had never tasted so sweet before.

Then, quite suddenly, he was falling. Unable to see the surface beneath him, he wasn't able to brace himself for the impact so hit the ground with a thud. His head was swimming in fresh pain but he didn't care. He was free.

Yet, as he laid there sprawled out on the floor, he realised that there was still an endless sea of black around him. It held none of the intimidation like earlier but he still felt the goosebumps rise on his skin.

Air slowly returned to his lungs and he greedily inhaled it. Wherever he was, it felt better and safer than where he had been. Someone had gotten him out of that mess and yet he didn't see them. The voice he replayed over and over again in his mind sounded highly familiar. Well, America had an angel watching over him somewhere.

"Hello?" he called out, pushing himself up into sitting position. "Hey? Err… Thanks dude - whoever you are. Now errr… do you know the way out of this place too?"

No reply.

America sighed in frustration. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead onto his knees. Now it was definitely up to him. Trouble was, America's survival skills weren't as sharp as they had been before for he rarely had the need to use them in the first place so wasn't as knowledgeable on the subject as others.

He knew he needed to make contact with someone. He also needed to find a safe location to make camp (he really didn't want those creatures finding him again) and also needed to collect food. Oh god, he was so hungry!

He searched his pockets for anything he might still have on him. There was no weapon though he could have sworn he brought one with him when he left the house earlier today and also, to his biggest disappointment, had no food on him. Someone must have taken them from him when he was passed – when he was recovering from shock. However, he did find his phone and the lit up screen was a welcomed sight. His eyes widened slightly in surprise. Was the date shown accurate? If so, he had spent almost two weeks here.

The American frowned. Now he was free to think clearly, he tried to place the pieces together. From what he remembered, he had left the house shortly after dinner (pizza!) because… because…? Oh! He wanted McDonalds! No. That wasn't it. He would have never left the house without his gun – only he didn't. America could recall grabbing it in a hurry before running out. Something had chased him out of his house. No. Something had scared him out.

The image of the blue-eyed clone made him shiver. It had been haunting him even when he had ran out of his house (he thought it might have been built on an Native American burial ground). But the clone had had followed him. They had confronted each other and America was about to finish him off when … when something had smashed into him.

Oh god.

He was dead!

That thing must have discovered a way to kill a nation and went after him! America was now dead and – Wah! This didn't look like heaven at all! What did he do to get in a place like this? He always opened the door for elderly (even when China slammed it back into his face) and tipped extra amounts! True, he didn't go to church as often as he use to but he did more so than the European heathens!

"Calm down, dude!" America whispered loudly. "I can get out of here. I'm America! No one can keep me locked away for long." But where was that blue-eyed clone? Was he a freaky omen of death or – No! America laughed weakly at scaring himself shitless. He had this all wrong! He wasn't in hell! He was on a spacecraft! That freaky dude was just a poorly made imposter trying to steal his country's military secrets then use them to plan an invasion! Sneaky aliens! It all made perfect sense! Flawless logic! And he could easily defeat any invading aliens. He always did in his movies and didn't he single-handedly save the world from those Japanese aliens? All right, so he had a little backup help from sidekicks then but the point remains the same – he was a butt kicking machine of pure awesomeness!

With his ego now restored and his energy quickly returning as a result, America jumped up into action and sprinted through the darkness, his phone held out to lit up his path. He'll get out of here! And then he'll expose that alien for what it really was!


	4. Chapter 4

"I'm sorry if the taste is off. It's lucky I have a gas cooker really or I would have never been able to heat it up," Arthur apologised for the tenth time during dinner. "As I said earlier, I would have ordered takeaway but it's difficult to maintain connection with this weather and I wouldn't want to bother them." No doubt the takeaway businesses would be busy tonight if people have electric cookers not working. Poor sods would get so wet. "It's all I had in the freezer. It's only been frozen for two days. I would have done more but I had to make sure that kind dear down the road was all right. Thankfully, her son came over so -"

"It's okay," Alfred said dismissively as he raised his spoon and watched the beef stew slip off and splash back into the bowl. "I ate on the way here." He held the bowl in both hands and swallowed the remaining gravy. They should invent see through bowls so people could continue watching the TV. He lowered the bowl onto his lap and licked his lips clean. It was good TV too. Better than what Arthur was watching earlier (punk bands documentary). Alfred may be roughly 300 years old but his favourite programmes were cartoons - and nothing would beat the hilarious talking sponge animation.

He was sitting upon the sofa with a dressing gown pulled tightly across him. Arthur had tried to find clothing to fit but they were too tight (the trousers alone wouldn't go pass his thighs). He didn't care for how cold it was getting but Arthur insisted on giving him a blanket too though Alfred had suspicions it was probably so he was covered up rather than for warmth.

The TV flickered out for the fourth time and Alfred whined then leant his head back, trying to catch a glimpse into the kitchen. "TV has gone again." Right in the middle of a good episode too.

"Then find something else to entertain yourself with. Try reading for a change. There's enough candle light to see the pages."

Find something else to entertain himself with? Alfred liked that offer. He stood up, the blanket falling off onto the floor, and wandered into the kitchen. Most of the washing up was done. To his relief, the curtains were closed over the windows so nothing stopped him from approaching Arthur, placing the bowl into the sink, and wrapping his arms around his waist.

Arthur tensed up.

"Thank you for the meal," Alfred whispered delicately in his ear. "It was delicious."

Enough was enough with this abnormal behaviour. Arthur turned around, opening his mouth to deliver a lecture, when suddenly Alfred moved in. England closed his eyes tightly. He held his breath as his heart hammered in his chest.

But nothing happened.

Slowly, he opened one eye and then the other. Alfred was barely an inch away with a broad teasing smile on his face.

"Want something?" he asked, the enjoyment clear in his voice.

What had he been expecting? Arthur wondered. It was difficult to tell with Alfred acting so unlike his usual self. That smug bastard...

"I..." Why couldn't he tell the American to sod off? "Y-you...I -" It was just a few words! How could he be left so speechless by an impossibly arrogant tosser? It wasn't fair! It was meant to be him that charmed Alfred. It was meant to be him to make the gentleman move.

"I could give it to you if you want..." Alfred whispered, his breath tickling against Arthur's lips. "If you don't say anything, I'll give you one..."

Again, he was left speechless. His mind unable to process with what was going on. Why now? What gives?

He didn't get a chance to continue.

Alfred licked against his lips, moistening them before pressing their mouths together. It was so innocent - just a gentle soft kiss. Alfred's hand raised and stroked Arthur's cheek. Arthur was pleading with his common sense to react but he was too caught up in the kiss.

Arthur's lips sandwiched between Alfred's. He could feel Alfred's teeth softly biting his bottom lip making his toes curl. A light suck left Arthur moaning weakly. Their lips parted again and their tongues playfully stroked and teased against the other's.

The Englishman's knees were growing weak. He grasped hold of Alfred's dressing gown just to keep himself upright. Alfred's hand moved behind Arthur's head, tangling his fingers in the blond hair. The second hand dropped down to Arthur's punk trousers. His hand stroked over the material that revealed Arthur's firm buttocks.

And, yet again, his fun came to an end when Arthur pushed him back. A hand clamped down over Alfred's mouth as Arthur moved backwards to trap the arse groping hand between him and the counter.

"All right arsehole, what gives?" he demanded, slightly breathless from the kiss. "Why are you suddenly acting hormonal on me?"

Alfred moved his head to the side to speak. "Do you want to know the truth?"

"Of course."

There was that smug smile again. Alfred parted his lips and took one of Arthur's fingers into his mouth. His tongue ran along one side, coating it with his saliva, then sucked upon it. Arthur could only stare. The American moved back until the finger left his mouth and winked. "I'm infatuated by you."

"What?"

"For a while."

Was this... Was this a confession? It couldn't be, could it? A real confession...? From America? To England? Who... why... It still didn't make any sense! It came at once! W-well, yes there had been some awkwardness between them for the last couple of years and they hadn't been able to do much beyond making eye contact and small talk. But to think...

Goddamnit! Why did America have to be the one to make the first move?! He knew he should have done something at the Christmas party when Francis placed mistletoe above them (instead, Arthur had lectured Francis on the proper way of cutting and preserving mistletoe to ensure its magic value remains and then went on to talk about the history of its use).

"And you?"

"H-huh?"

"Is this one-sided or ?"

Arthur closed his mouth when he realised he had been staring like a deer in headlights. He still wasn't ready to stay anything... It was too much. He looked around in protest with a poor attempt of a frown.

Alfred nuzzled against his neck. "Do you like me, Artie? Cooome on. You can saaaay it. You liiiiiiike me."

"B-bugger off!" Arthur stamped down on Alfred's foot but the American only laughed. "And stop clinging! It's not cute!"

"You use to think so. I was really cute. I still am!" Alfred protested.

"You use to be."

"I still am."

"Not."

"That's mean."

"It was meant to be."

Alfred moved to the living room, tugging Arthur with him who was protesting and squirming in his grasp. He dropped Arthur down on the sofa and loomed over with him with a predator smile that made Arthur swallow and inch back to the other end of the settee.

"If I'm not cute, does that mean I'm 'hot'? sexy?"

Arthur tugged a cushion out from beneath him and held it in front as a shield. "Alfred, stop. I'm warning you. You're going to quick and I'm not comfortable."

Alfred did, thankfully, stop. He looked down at Alfred with a strange expression on his face that he couldn't read. After a brief and awkward silence between them, Alfred pulled away. "Sorry," he apologised with a pitiful look. "I didn't mean to. I just... I've been waiting for so long..."

Recovering from his shock, Arthur propped himself up on his elbows. "Now you listen here, young man. If you really want, er, this, whatever this is, then you're going to have to deserve it. I'm not some perverted freak of nature, like some, who will happily accept anyone into their bedroom. If you're that frustrated, take a damn shower. You have a hand, don't you?"

"Wouldn't be the same," Alfred whined then brightened up. "Deserve it? So I can buy you flowers, take you on a date, and see how it goes?"

"Not quite..." Arthur fell back with a groan. It was hard talking to teenagers, especially those who were stuck at the mental age of one. Why couldn't Alfred hurry up and do some growing up so they could have a conversation where they actually understood each other? It would be so much easier and a hell of a lot less stressful.

"How about tomorrow? I'll treat you like royalty! You'll see. You will love it so much." Alfred jumped up and paused when he heard a clap of thunder. "Or maybe we'll get some stuff in and watch movies. Hmmm... let's leave it as a surprise!"

"Hello brick wall. It's nice to see you today," Arthur said loudly as he rolled onto his side. "How you doing? Good, good. Glad to hear it." This was going to be a long night. A very long night.

* * *

He was lost. Completely lost. He had no idea what was East or South and he definitely had no idea where he was. This spaceship was proving to be bigger than he had thought but also very empty for something of this size. Would it be too much for the aliens to switch on a light? Alfred tried jumping up to see if he could touch a ceiling but his fingers felt nothing. And that was all that laid out around him - nothing.

And it was really really reeeeally frustrating.

The worst part was that his phone was losing battery. He tried to text and call numerous times but, as expected, there was no signal wherever he went. It was quickly becoming the worst horror film ever for he was hungry, bored, and tired. This kind of stuff never happened to the hero! Usually there would be monsters to fight or aliens would have jumped out to try and dissect him by now. Where the hell where they all?! Were they waiting for when he fell asleep and then try to attack him? Haha!

"Nice try, alien scum, but this pure-blooded American would not be easy to take d- AHHHH!" His awesome moment ruined but his damn phone beeping at him out of the blue. Heart racing with nerves, Alfred frowned at the screen with the red battery sign beeping at him. Damn it. Now what was he meant to do? He tried to shake it and smacked the palm of his hand against the phone as if it would somehow get more life into it. The beeping stopped at least. Good thing to for he didn't want anyone to hear -

A spine-chilling growl came from behind him. Alfred turned around slowly. He held up his hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper! Errr... E.T. phone home! S'up?"

"How did you escape from the Pit of Lost Souls?" the voice sounded deep and gruff. The growls came back when the talking stopped.

"Huh? Oh, that. Err, dunno. Guess my guardian angel was around?" Alfred didn't know how to respond to the stranger. He tried to use the last of his phone light to see who it was. It was weak, but the beam fell onto a large pair of paws. Its claws looked sharp enough to skin him alive. The light slowly raised to reveal a heavily scarred and spiked creature. Saliva and blood were dripping from its opened mouth, showing its yellowing teeth. The tatty black fur still had dried clumps of blood clinging to it.

Strangely enough, Alfred relaxed. "Oh, it's just a big dog."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING DOG?!"

Wow. So the dog was the one who was talking? Excited, Alfred grinned. "No way! You can talk! That's awesome!"

"Of course," the dog snarled, digging its claws into the ground. "I am Diablo!"

"... Is that even English?"

"No! It's Spanish for - ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!"

"Huh? Nah, not really." Alfred had tried to look around for where the dog came from in hopes of getting out but, once again, it was endless darkness. "Besides, you look more like a Spike to me. Sounds better."

"DIABLO. MY MASTER -"

"So Spikey, are you an alien dog?" Alfred asked, intrigued.

Diablo looked ready to pounce and tear Alfred apart but it stayed put - though clearly not happy with doing so. "NO. I AM A HELL HOUND."

"Fuck, shit, really?" Alfred groaned. So he really was in Hell? That wasn't fair! How did that happen? He couldn't die. He definitely couldn't die. No chance that clone would be able to do it. First thing first though, he needed to get out. Then he could get answers. Too many films had told him what Hell would be like (though, he did expect more brimstone and lava). "So there's not a ladder or anything I can take? An elevator would be good. Do you have one?"

"FOOL. YOU ARE ON THE SPIRIT PLAIN. YOU CANNOT GET OUT. YOU WILL BE HERE FOREVER."

"Fuck. You sure, Spike? No trapdoors or vents I can crawl through? Happens all the time in the movies."

"THIS IS NOT A MOVIE."

"Yeah. There'll be a hot half naked chick clinging to my arm if so."

Diablo growled in warning. Its bright glowing eyes narrowed. For a second, it reminded Alfred of... "Hey, who is your Mast-"

"Diablo, is he annoying you? I'm surprised you haven't sank your teeth into by now. It may shut him up before he attracts any more attention."

Alfred recognised that voice! It was the same one that helped rescue him from whatever that thing was earlier! A friend! He beamed and looked around. "Hey, you helped me out earlier, right? Can you do it again? I dunno what way to do go and -"

"YOU HELPED HIM ESCAPE?! YOU KNOW THAT HE WILL NOT BE HAPPY WHEN HE FINDS OUT."

"Relax," the bodyless voice purred, "You're getting moody again. He's too busy to know. Besides, I can handle his anger but can you handle mine? Go have a snack or two. I will tend to our little visitor."

The hell hound looked ready to strike but relaxed its form and turned around without another word. Its tail was the last thing Alfred saw of it. Pity, the creature looked like fun. Spike would have loved hanging out with Tony and his whale. Alfred could easily make a doghouse in the garden for him though, judging by the size of it, Alfred would have to find a strong enough chain to stop Spike running off.

"Has your sanity always been at this level? Or has it altered dangerous since your arrival? Ten days in Hell usually ends for many at this point. But.. you're not one to easily die, are you?"

"What? Oh. No way, man! Haha! I'm invincible!" Alfred bragged, tucking away his now dead phone into his pocket. What's the chance he could find a charger around here? In the horror games, the hero always found spare batteries around to collect up and restore power. Why can't things be more like a video game? Alfred would rock the place!

"Delusional. Nice."

"So are you going to hide from me? Are you that ugly? I bet I've seen worse than you! I remember this one time when -"

"Do you ever shut up?" The voice grew irritable. "But if you must know..." Fireballs flared up from sparks. It only pushed the darkness away without showing anything except a figure who was standing a short distance away. Well... not exactly standing. It was floating, hovering over a spot, with its hands tucked into his trousers pockets. Two small horns were just noticeable in the thick red hair. Alfred didn't notice the spiked tail until the tip pressed against the creature's elbow. Beneath the thick eyebrows was a pair of glowing eerie green eyes. But it was the face that made Alfred's eyes widen.

"BRITAIN?!"

"Partly," The devil said in a light tone. It raised higher into the air and turned upon its back so he was hanging upside down in the air. "You could say I'm the bad half of him. The half that whispers cruel intentions into his ear. He is always a fun one to toy around with, and most of the time there's little persuasion needed on my behalf." He smiled a toothy grin. "And how unfortunate for you to cross my path."

Alfred stared blankly at him. "Did you get drunk with France again?"

"I HAVE NOT BEEN DRINKING." Resisting the urge to strangle, the devil flipped back over and rested his head on his hand while his elbow rested on thin air. "Listen, do you want to know what is happening with your 'clone' or not? All you need to ask and -"

"Tell me everything," Alfred cut in, suddenly very serious. "Don't skip on any details."

The devil raised his thick bushy eyebrows. "I told you before. You want my help, you must give me something of equal value."

Alfred shrugged. "Or I could beat it out of you."

Devil Arthur floated back and the lights grew dimmer. "I'm a devil, you foolish tosser. I can leave here before you raise your fist. I'll do it too. I have spent the last few hours keeping vicious creatures away from you but if you treat me in such manner then I will leave you to their mercy. Do you think you can fight away what you cannot see?"

"I'll give it my best shot."

"You are a fool."

"One of a kind." Alfred grinned. "But we can talk, if you want. Hero has to get information by any means. So what do you want? I eerrr... have a dead phone." He patted down his torn clothing. "I don't really have anything else on me right now but when I get out, I can send you something."

"I do not care for material items. They were meaningless here." Now sure he wouldn't be harmed, the devil moved closer. His feet touched down on the floor and he walked over till he was standing directly in front of Alfred. He fussed over the state of Alfred's clothing by folding down the collar to his shirt. "But I can take something else. Something small. You'll barely notice it when its gone."

"What's that...?" Alfred asked slowly.

The devil linked his arms around Alfred's neck and pressed his lips against Alfred's. It was a soft and delicate kiss - hardly something that could lead on. But it was enough to make Alfred go bright red. What was... happening? This bizarre England lookalike was kissing him and - England was fucking kissing him! Alfred had never -

"OW, OW, OW!"

Alfred's fists grinded against the side of the devil's head. The creature pulled away, grasping his head in his hands. Alfred looked thoroughly disgusted. "You really are the perverted ambassador."

"That's hypocritical of you, bastard."

"What do you mean?!" Alfred demanded, not calling a moment in his life where he would surprise someone like that! Though the temptation had been there several times, Alfred was strong enough to ignore those demons!

The devil smirked. "Oh, you are going to love this..."


	5. Chapter 5

In order to make England comfortable with their 'date', Alfred gave him the choice of picking what they do. The idea of a dinner was a welcoming one and, because it was England, it was in the nearby pub. It wasn't that bad, Alfred thought as he peered around. Sure, there were a few groups drinking and talking loudly here and there but nothing over-whelming. Stone was used inside of brick to show off its age (it was probably older than Alfred which was saying something). There was a light welcoming atmosphere too. He wasn't even aware that these places did food which was a nice surprise.

He looked down at the menu and half listened to the English nation's bragging - "You'll find that pub grub is the best grub!" "Nothing can compare." "Music is good choice too." "Might sure you go for a dessert. They are to die for." "Might play the fruit machine."

"What's 'bubble and squeak'?" he cut across England's ranting. "Rats? Mice?"

England looked horrified but laughed it off. "Goodness me, no! It's potato and cabbage. It's not bad. During my rationing time, it was a highly popular dish."

"Sounds icky."

Alfred loved his meat too much to settle for a plate of vegetables. This place did a range of burgers but before he could opened his mouth, England was pointed to the menu. "Go with the Shepherd's pie. It's lamb with potato. Very nice, one of my personal favourites. Since you like apple, go for the apple crumble for dessert. It's similar to your apple pies."

"And what are you having?"

"Chilli Con Carne for main then Spotty Dick with hot custard for dessert."

The American smirked and rested his chin upon his linked fingers. "You'll accept a spotty dick but not mine?"

England stuttered and kicked his date under the table. "Quit that talk! We're in public!"

"But you look cute when you turn red." Alfred smiled and watched England sink a bit in his seat. If it wasn't for those huge eyebrows, which he should really think about plucking, then the Englishman would be a fine looking person. "So when is the waitress getting here? Service sucks."

"Idiot. There's no waitresses in pubs! If you want an order, you go to the barmen. No, don't get up. I'll go. I know what we want."

Alfred watched him stand up and walk over to the bar. As he suspected, the Brit instantly ordered a drink. He didn't bother him too much. Arthur was somewhat easier to get along with when he was drunk because he didn't argue so much and clung on a lot more.

It was about another ten minutes before Arthur remembered Alfred was waiting for him. He walked over with a fresh pint of beer in his hand and sat down opposite with a weak smile. "I'm really happy that you came here. I didn't know you were interested in, well, improving our relations. I mean... I errr... never knew you were interested in being friends let alone this."

Alfred rested forward again and smiled. "I thought I was playing hard to get."

"You were playing a prat," England snorted.

"I'm here though, aren't I?"

"Yeah..." Arthur held his glass with both hands and stared at it with his weak smile growing. "I guess so."

"You're cute when you smile. You should do so more often."

Caught off guard, England looked up at Alfred's bright blue eyes. He never realised how bright they were. Had they always been like that? He felt his cheeks heat up and quickly took a large gulp of beer as though he was dying of thirst. Choking slightly, he hit his chest and then looked back up. "W-well... I smile enough. If I smiled all the time, it would be meaningless. Right?"

Alfred chuckled and winked. "Not as long as I get them all."

"Since when did you start sounding romantic?" Arthur asked. He had never known Alfred to have a single romantic bone in his body.

"Since never. I'm just being greedy. I want you all to myself."

"That's never going to happen."

"I know. So I'll take what I can."

Never something he suspected Alfred to say but it made him flush up with embarrassment and look away. No one had really spoken to him in that way before. No one had tried to charm him purely because of good intentions. To think that someone might actually like for being the way he was... It was kind of frightening.

"I'll, er, go check how long our meal will take. Do you want a drink too or? I'll get you something if you want. Might have to go with coke though since, er, you might be asked for ID but..." Arthur stood up in mid rant and quickly left to the bar. This was not going to be easy but somehow he'll find a way of getting through this with some dignity.

* * *

America was still struggling to see. It was hellish, no pun intended, to make his way along. The devil dimmed down the fireballs to ash and only gave guidance by the glowing of his green eyes. There wasn't a single word exchanged despite America's attempts to get information from him but was told to wait until arriving at a 'safe' location. Like anywhere could be safe down here in hell. What a joke.

He kicked against the ground as if expecting to move a stone or something to break away the illusion of an endless flat land. Being told to be quiet was not something that ever settled well with the American but with the eerie possibility of having demons breath down his neck or other unknown monsters out there, he would be willing to keep his mouth closed this one time for as long as he can.

"Are we there yet?" he whined.

"If you start that, I'll turn us around and send you back to the pit."

Alfred crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. Stupid British devil dude or whatever he was. But he paused when he heard a sound of a door opening - or something similar? The green glowing eyes vanished. Confused, he stepped forward and -

Smack.

"Open the door, twat."

Rubbing his nose, Alfred reached out and felt wood under his fingertips. He stroked along it until he came across the handle. "Could have kept it open for me," he grumbled as he stepped inside and instantly shielded his eyes from the bright light. A couple of blinks later, America dropped his hand down and peered around. "Hey, this is Britain's place! Are we back on Earth?!"

"No. This is a replica of his place." The devil was stretched out on the settee with a broad smile on his face. "Take a seat."

Alfred frowned and stood his ground. "No. You're gong to tell me everything you know. I want to get back home so I can kick that bastard's face in."

Arthur sighed and crossed one leg over the other before examining his nails. The patience of the young was non-existent. "What do you want to know first? I know we have eternity here, it still wouldn't be enough to teach **you** all I know."

"What were those things in the pit?" he asked without thinking. For now, it would be easy to forget about them but every time he closed his eyes... It wasn't something he was ever going to forget.

"Lost souls. It's where all souls go who have suddenly lost their vessels - usually in violent ways. They attacked you because your vessel is still walking around and they want it. Though yours does have a devil hiding inside it so it would make it pointless. They're never getting out of there and you're lucky I managed to get to you."

"Wait, what? Why?" Alfred knew of many reasons why someone would pose as a country but which reason was the right one?

The devil sighed. "Look, I will tell you everything I can if you just shut up until I'm finished. Can you do that much?"

"No promises."

"I expected as much."

"Evil exists in everyone - or the potential for evil does. It depends how you chose to view it. As nations, your sides are darker and stronger than the norm to the point where they form devils. Recently, we've been content to sit in the shadows and whisper into your ears but, well, your little devil on the shoulder grew restless. He's been wanting more. Never thought he would go out and do the unspeakable though."

Alfred, already forgetting the request of silence, cut in. "Why me though?"

"It's not just you. Everyone has struggled to deal with their darker sides at some point during their history. Yours has just been growing restless now because, err how do I phrase this nicely?, you're amongst the weakest."

"I'm not weak," America said coolly.

"My wording is poor. I meant you're completely unsatisfied. You love control. You love power. It's a burning thirst for you. The majority of countries have had a chance to surrender to it. Heck," a dark smile crossed his face, "I had England in the palm of my hand for so long."

"You're sick. And wrong."

"If you insist on believing so." Arthur shrugged. "But with someone who has no knowledge of magic or anything of the type, you've been ignorant about your own existence. You'll be happy to know that he is weakened whilst in your vessel. His magic is limited."

"But if he gets into the facilities then he could declare war on everyone and - He's going to destroy everything!" America had weapons that should have never been created but if a devil got hold of them then it would be world war 3! "How do I stop this?!"

"It's not his body to take but there is a way he would be able to trade places with you permanently."

Alfred really didn't like the expression of the devil's face. Arthur sat up and his tail swayed like a dog's tail when excited.

"He has to form a bond with someone already on Earth. The stronger the bond, the stronger he becomes. And being power greedy, he's going to go after the strongest bond he can make."

"Huh...?"

The devil grinned. "He's going to bang England."

"... Huh? They're gonna fight? What does that do?"

"No, you twit. You never had a stronger bond than with England, right? Whether you like it or not, that's how it is. So, he's going to sleep with him. Sex. Fuck. Get the hint now?"

"WH-WHA?!"

Alfred could not contain his flustered reaction. His face went red and he stumbled over his words. "W-why him? He's old! A-and... N-no way! C-can't be - why?!"

Arthur was amused. He smirked and fell back onto the sofa again then winked. "You like him, do you not? No, don't try to deny it. As dark counterparts, we know all that goes on in our nation's mind. Your devil has told me everything so you cannot hide it from me."

"Ewww, no way! I have never thought about - Bullshit! I'm calling bullshit on you!" Alfred's voice grew higher in pitch and he pointed a finger accusingly at him. "Liar! You lie! You're a devil so you lie! You're just messing with me. Quit it!"

Arthur laughed and placed his hands behind his head. "Now why would I lie when the truth is much more entertaining? It's strange though, isn't it? He could charm a lady and do so but he is power hungry so why not enjoy a challenge if he got him what he wanted?"

"Britain won't give it to him."

"He will if he believes it's you."

Alfred stopped freaking out long enough to peer down at Arthur. The red-headed devil just smiled innocently at him. Did he just...? But Britain wasn't interested in him. He had never shown any interest in him before. Then again, he was an old perverted man. But he really wouldn't sleep with America, right? But who knows how many people that old man slept with in the past.

"But, regardless of feelings, once they sleep together it is game over for you." The devil said lightly. "You'll be stuck here forever until you turn into one of those lost souls."

"Fuck off."

"It's true. Being connected to a vessel, or believing to be, means you will never be able to move on."

Alfred whined and dropped down to the floor. This was too much. First he was stalked by a dark clone that turned out to be a monster, then he got into an accident that sent him into a pit filled with monsters, and after being rescued by a kissing pervert - Alfred learnt the horrible truth about why this was happening only to also learn it would end with his devil self fucking England while he became a hideous monster.

He felt two hands on his shoulders and didn't protest as they began to rub his shoulders. "You're so tense about this," the devil purred. "Why don't you sit back and enjoy yourself while you can? It's going to be a long eternity."

* * *

Alfred's back slammed against the front door. His grunt was muffled instantly by the rough pair of lips over his before his partner's tongue invaded his mouth with no warning. Arthur's hands were all over him: groping his sides and squeezing his arse tightly. He could smell the alcohol influence upon the Brit's breath but had no chance to protest. Drunk or not, Arthur was a damn good kisser.

In drunken haze, Arthur fumbled with the button and zip. His hand was brushed aside in favour of pressing their groins together.

The street-lights were off, fortunately giving them a blanket of darkness while they dry-humped each other with muffled groans from the drunk. But it wasn't enough to satisfy. More was needed. With great effort, Alfred eased his hips away from Arthur's and ignored the feeling of a bulge grinding against his thigh instead. Gripping Arthur's shoulders, he turned them around with enough force to startle Arthur out of his animalistic state.

He peered up at Alfred with his emerald eyes. The expression was so pitiful and needy that Alfred smiled a toothy grin and pressed back against him. "It's getting cold out here, right? Let's go in and really heat things up."

Arthur's cheeks were redden but he nodded and patted down his jacket in search of his keys. Impatient, Alfred pressed his hand against the lock and used what little magic he had to open the door. They tumbled inside with Alfred just catching himself in time to prevent squishing Arthur beneath. But the Brit didn't care. He locked his legs around Alfred's waist and stuffed his hand deep inside the trousers.

Alfred's hips jerked back as he groaned. "Shit, your hands are cold..."

"Want me to stop?" Arthur asked, his voice heavily stirred. His fingers clumsily slid against Alfred's bare member. "Cause I won't."

Just what he wanted to hear. Alfred smirked and stared down at his intoxicated partner. "No. Keep going."

The cold touch trailed down along his hardening shaft, barely touching the head but capable of giving his balls a gently squeeze. Alfred's nose pressed against Arthur's neck where he softly bit down on the skin. The hand against him froze briefly before continuing its unpredictable pacing. Alfred's hips rolled into the hand as he left sloppy kisses along Arthur's neck so the Brit was moaning in pleasure.

A sudden bright light surrounded them. Alfred pulled back to peer over his shoulder and saw that the front light of the neighbour's house switched on. Oh yes, the door was still open and they were pretty much getting at it half over the doorway. Alfred gripped the Brit's wrist and pulled it away. "Why don't we head upstairs and get comfortable? You wouldn't want the neighbours to see." A comical expression passed Arthur's face. Alfred pushed up onto his knees and shifted their legs around to close the door. "Come on."

Helping him up, Alfred got to his feet along with Arthur. The Englishman swayed for a moment, giving Alfred the moment to pull him against himself. He flashed a grin at him. "Want me to carry you up, sweet cheeks?"

"Bugger off." Arthur scoffed and pushed enough causing himself to stumble. Alfred caught him and slung the drunk over his shoulder with a merry laugh. Had he been in his usual frame of mind, Arthur would have swore and hit Alfred until released but, since he wasn't, instead Arthur laughed and pushed his hands down pass the belted trousers and squeezed at Alfred's buttocks. "Squishy."

Feeling the butt muscles flex under his hands as Alfred walked up the stairs, Arthur laughed again and attempted to wiggle his hands around the waist towards the groin. He didn't get far when Alfred then dropped him on a bed and crawled over him. "Would this be easy?" he offered, unbuttoning his trousers and tugging them down past his thighs to reveal tented underpants.

"Much," Arthur purred, reaching out and tugging Alfred closer by his underwear. Winching when it pinged back against him, Alfred pressed his lips back on to Arthur's and melted into the heated passionate kiss before returning to the neck. Arthur's breathing hitched and became shallow with every bite and suck.

There was only so much build up Alfred could take however. He needed to get to the main point. Alfred reached out a hand and felt his way along the bedside cabinet till he found a handle. Far too lazy to get off the bed to look probably, Alfred tugged open the drawer a few inches till there was just enough room to wiggle his hand inside. His fingers patted down on numerous items, mostly books, until he found a little bottle. Though the Englishman didn't get as much action as he once did, he was still always prepared for this day. How kind of him, Alfred thought mockingly.

Turning the bottle around in his hand to read it to be certain, Alfred sat up. It was definitely lube. Flavoured too. "Here it is," he cheered, turning back around to grin at his partner only... Arthur's eyes were closed and his lips were parted as he gently snored. "Hey!" Somewhat annoyed, Alfred shook Arthur but got no response. "So close," he cursed under his breath, throwing the bottle down on the ground. Tomorrow will have to be the day for his patience was wearing thin.


	6. Chapter 6

There was a mark across the carpet from where Alfred continuously paced throughout the night; fabric strands were curled from where his feet trended on them. Arthur would not be happy but Alfred, quite frankly, didn't give a shit just then. His temperament was close to breaking point and the growling from his stomach did not help.

He tried hard to keep on England's good side but who cared now? Time was ticking on and he was struggling to be patient. A missing neighbour or two wouldn't be of any concern.

"William Malcolm Miller. Aged 47. Repeated drug offender. Arson." He tapped a finger against his chin, recalling the local area sinners. "Wendy Anne Johnson. Aged 35. Murdered her former husband." Their souls often tasted differently depending on the poison. Alfred didn't have a preference. Souls were souls and those who were picky missed out on some good ones.

He stepped in the middle of the room and gazed over towards the mirror. His demonic features were clearly displayed in his reflection; his curled horns and sharp fanged teeth. He opened his mouth wide and caressed his tongue over his teeth. Yes, perhaps one little snack would lighten his mood. A devil was never in good spirits when hungry – no pun intended.

The bright blue glowing eyes travelled to the side of the mirror. A lamp had moved. It was barely an inch but he noticed it. There was something else here, watching him. His lips twisted into a dark smile. It always did delight him when food came to him.

He turned around, his smile now pleasant. Yes, he could smell it. Something was close by. Alfred went towards the sofa. "A willing meal? You won't make more than a mouthful but I'll accept!"

Rushed footsteps moved across the floor but he didn't catch sight of what it was. Annoyed, but keeping it masked with pleasantness, Alfred peered around. They were inching close to the corner of the room where a large flower pot was. The leaves shook and there was a non-existent breeze.

"You want to play games? I can play. Ready or not, here I come!"

He launched at pot, knocking it over as his clawed fingers tore through the leaves. The dirt fell across the carpet. Tiny footsteps were appearing in it, leaving a trail towards the door. Alfred straightened up and saw the door throw itself open and another set of rushed footsteps and... hooves on the steps?

A fanged tooth poked deep into his tongue. Someone was going to Arthur's room after seeing his true identity in the mirror. He went to the bottom of the staircase and stared up. The light shade was swinging gently. Alfred waved mockingly at the invisible creature and then motioned for it to come closer.

Unseen by him, the fairy shook her dainty head and flew out to rejoin the others. The monster was on its way and Arthur was still fast asleep.

The gnome pushed the bedroom door closed when she entered the room. She flew over to the rest of her kin and settled down upon Arthur's messy hair. They pulled sharply at it, urging him to wake from his deep drunken slumber.

Arthur's hand rose and brushed them aside. Brownie joined them and tried to shake England awake. Every second felt like an agonising hour till the monster would walk in. Thankfully, unicorn and gnome were adding their enchantments to do the door. Hopefully their magic would last long enough for them to get England out of here.

The nation stirred and lifted his head off the pillow. His eyes were half lidded, his expression dazed and confused, and a trail of drool was left on his pillowcase. "Wh-what?" he stammered, his voice still heavy from his late night drinking.

Hangovers were horrible. Truly. Even centuries of getting plastered, England still never mastered surviving the morning after with dignity intact. His head was spinning and he placed his head back down, a fairy narrowly avoiding getting crushed. The blanket was tugged over his head so to stay hidden in darkness.

"I'm never drinking again," he croaked. "I hate myself. My head hurts. I'm going to vomit. Why did I drink so much?"

"Mister England! Wake up!"

Arthur moaned loudly in protest and curled up. His friends had done this before; when Arthur was running behind on work and decided to drink instead. Thankfully, Brownie had taken care of some of his work while he was recovering.

"Wake up!"

A sharp pain in his side made him yelp and sit up. He instantly regretted it and leant against the wall, pressing a cool hand against his forehead. "Uni! I told you to be careful with that horn. Don't you re... hey, what's wrong?" He blinked and stared at the shaken state his friends were in. He never saw them look so frightened.

They all spoke up at once. It was difficult to make them out but he heard a few key words; America, danger, trouble, and monster. Was Alfred in danger? Ignoring the headache, he went to get up when they pushed him down. Before he could ask why, there was a knock on the door.

"Hey Britain! Come out and let's have breakfast. I'm hungry. I'll cook!"

He opened his mouth to respond when the fairies fluttered in front of his face. He heard their jiggles and turned pale. Alfred wasn't the real America? But it made no sense...! Where would the real America be and why was this impostor with him? He hesitated. Fairies were notorious tricksters yet the brownie was nodding his head in agreement with their statements. It would explain the unusual behaviour of Alfred's over the past couple of days.

There was another knock on the door. "Briiiiiitain."

Arthur pressed his finger to his lips and ushered his friends away. Trusting him, they moved away and watched as Arthur dragged himself out of bed and cautiously approached the door. He was thankful to see the magical engravings but they were done in a rush and would not last long.

"Who are you?"

Silence. Then Alfred spoke, his voice lower than before. "Why don't you come out and see for yourself?"

Arthur was no fool. This creature knew he had been discovered and a cornered animal will do anything it can to escape. "I asked you a question. Where is the real America?"

"Gone. He's no longer here. There is only me."

Arthur leant against the door. He could feel a chill in the air. It was tense and horrible. Goosebumps rose on the back of his skin and his spine tingled. He knew this feeling. There was dark magic present: a vast amount of dark magic. Only a rare few could project it.

"You're a devil."

"I am **the** devil."

An odd sound trembled against the door. Curious to what he was doing, Arthur waved his hand and created a small transparent hole to peek through. A large blue eye were already on the other side, peering straight at him.

"If you won't come out then I'll come in!"

There was loud bang and the door rattled against its hinges. Arthur stumbled back with his friends taking protection behind him. They needed to get out of here and fast.

* * *

The devil's patience was put to the ultimate test. He could not recall a time where he was unable to respond in a violent manner to end his own personal suffering until now. And it was a teenager causing it. A whiny, bratty, and whiny (yes, double whiny) teenager was laid out flat on his floor, moping in self-pity. His face was planted into the carpet and his voice was, thankfully, growing quieter.

"What are you ranting about now?" Devil Arthur snapped.

"Foooooooood!"

"There's no mortal food here."

"Fooooooooooooooooood!"

Alfred was useless without his edible fuel. He needed the energy to move and fight and maybe think things over too. If his stomach was going to be empty for the rest of eternity, he rather someone take mercy and end it now. This was nothing short of torture!

It was over two weeks since he last ate. That was the longest he ever went. Sure, it didn't feel like two weeks but it was still a long time to go without a meal. His mouth was watering at the thought of having one more burger. Just one. One plateful. With fries on the side. A mountain of fries on the side. And a diet coke. A galleon of diet coke.

But it wasn't all bad. Because his mind was focusing purely on the stomach, he had no time to feel paranoid. Still, it wasn't a lot of comfort. His stomach continued to growl on and on. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and rolled onto his side with a louder whine.

"Are you going to do this the entire time you're here?"

"Yes."

"Tsh."

Arthur rose from the chair and left the room. Feeling abandoned, Alfred looked up with a puppy dog innocence. Was Arthur going to take pity and bring him food? He'll eat anything – even Arthur's terrible cooking. It would be a blessing from the gods. In that, it would kill him quicker so he didn't have to suffer.

The nation pushed his arms underneath himself and gradually built up enough energy to rise. Like a lost dog, he wandered after the devil. The layout of Arthur's house hadn't changed a lot since he last visited. Where had the devil disappeared off to? Haha... now there was no one near him, this place was beginning to feel creepy again. He remembered the ghost stories Arthur proudly bragged about. Alfred's visit was cut short suddenly then.

"Gordon Bennett, can't you think of anything besides your stomach?"

Alfred turned to see Arthur looming in a study room doorway. Oh. It didn't look like a place where food was kept. Disappointed, Alfred shook his head. "Nah. I think of other things."

"If you're going to lounge around, make yourself useful." The devil stood aside and waved an arm towards the room. "Come inside and assist me."

Helping a devil didn't sound like a noble act but Alfred wanted the company so slipped past him and gazed around at the room. He remembered seeing an identical one at England's. England was standing by a large black pot back then and chanting some mumbo jumbo. "Where did you get all this?"

"I didn't. It belongs to England. This world is parallel to yours. What happens there, usually happens here. With some examples naturally. It's most affected by the larger effects than minor ones so don't try anything funny. Now sit down and don't touch anything!"

America, whose finger was an inch away from a jar with a funky looking alien thing inside, lowered his hand. It bothered him to be treated like a child. In attempt to prove he could be mature, Alfred settled upon a table and stared around. It should frighten him but it applied more to his curiousity than fear.

He gazed back at the devil who was floating in the air again with a large book opened out before him in a stand. There was a deep look of attention on his face that Alfred just had to break.

"What are you doing? Reading? You're reading while my country is at sake to that thing up there?"

"So is your virginity but I don't here you bitching about that."

The bastard had the same temperament as England. It was impossible to talk friendly to him when he threw out insults in every sentence. "I'm not a virgin. I lost it centuries ago to -"

"Not interested."

The devil flicked the page over and ran a clawed finger along it. His lips were moving but no sound came out. Alfred bit the inside of his cheek and them attempted again.

"So what are you doing?"

"Shouldn't you be asking yourself that? It's your body. It's your country. Quite frankly, I don't see why I should be dragged into this mess any more than what I have."

Ah. Yes. He probably should think that way. Trouble was, most of Alfred's ideas died quickly because he didn't have any understanding on this world and knew nothing of the resources it could provide him. Plus, there were horrible creatures out there and his fists could only take him so far.

"So?"

"... I don't know what to do."

Arthur lifted his gaze from the book. "So?"

He was going to force him to say it before he did anything. Alfred could tell from the cocky way he spoke. Hating himself for doing so, Alfred glared sharply at the red head. "So I need help."

"Really?"

"From you."

"I'm flattered."

"Don't be."

Arthur smirked and returned to the book. "You're fortunate but as I said before. I don't give without taking."

"Name your price."

"Again, I will let you know when I see something of equal value."

"I have to wait?"

"Oh no! I will help. You will merely... be in my debt."

"Fine."

Something didn't feel right then. A weird tingle sensation spread across him. He shifted closer to the edge of the table and looked back, briefly wondering if he sat on something. He didn't. Alfred looked back at the devil who was looking happier than before.

"Why are you helping me?" Alfred asked. Most devils were pure evil in films and his devil was definitely bad news. But England's was... nice? Friendly as England could ever be. And he hadn't tried to hurt him (like he could) and helped him out a couple of times. Heck, except from the weird kiss, he was a pretty cool guy.

"Do not underestimate my intentions. Do you realise what position this puts me in? He believes he has everything under control but it was never him who was pulling the strings."

"I don't follow."

A dark smile grew on the devil's face. It was cruel and definitely devilish. "To have you in my debt. Can you imagine the possibilities? This is an incredible price to pay. Far more than a mere kiss. Not only do you owe me from stealing you away from the pit but now you owe me far greater than before for returning you back."

"You... I don't get it."

The book slammed close. Arthur drifted up higher, a dark green aura energy emitted from his being. "It was I who convinced him to go through with his plan. It was I who taught him how. It was I who told him what he needed to do. I told you earlier, you're power hunger. You know little of the world and want to control it. That makes you dangerous but easy to manipulate."

He had been used.

"You?!"

Alfred stood up, his hand shooting straight to his waist only – damn it, he didn't have his gun! He forgot. He held his fists. If he had to fight his way out of this, so be it! It will be easy!

"You belong to me now. Body and soul until your debt is repaid. To think that I now have two powerful countries in the palm of my hand, ready to do my bidding at a single mention." The devil wrapped his arms around himself and turned upside down with a growing smile. "It's highly satisfying."

Alfred's teeth gritted together. No. No one owned him and if he had to prove it to England _again _then he would without hesitation. "I'm the United fucking States of America. I don't answer to you. I don't answer to anyone."

He didn't move when the devil suddenly appeared in front of his face. A clawed finger ran along his cheek and down to his chin. "Oh, my dear boy," Arthur said in a velvety voice, "I think you find you'll have no choice. Sooner or later, you will submit."


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur rattled his brains for a quick escape. Trapped in a room that wasn't on the ground floor made the ordeal difficult to flee from. The only way out was either through the door the devil was gradually breaking through or the window. But where would he go afterwards? It was still raining down heavily and the phone line was down, not that he had anyone to call.

The devil would easily be able to corner him, especially since Arthur was suffering a hangover and therefore in a weaker state. But America had weaknesses too. Everyone had a weakness whether they admitted to it or not. What in his house could be used to keep the American devil away?

There must be something in his study room. There were a few protection charms in there to keep the devil away long enough for Arthur to research a spell to reverse this mess.

The door shook dangerously and he felt unicorn's teeth tugging on his sleeve. Right. Out of the window and to the basement, that was the plan!

"Leave now!" Arthur hissed to his friends as he shoved the window open. He ignored their protests and peered down at the soaking grassy patch beneath him. Oh how he wished he was younger: he would have easily been able to make the jump back then.

He climbed onto the ledge and held his breath. Maybe he could slip around the devil and run down the stairs instead?

"Briiiiiitain!"

It was either the adrenaline caused by fear or the remaining alcohol in his system but Arthur's feet took flight and launched off the windowsill.

His head rushed and his vision blurred. There was a heavy thud against ground, softened barely by the absorbed rainwater. For a brief moment, he couldn't move. He laid there, panting. The pain in his ankle eased by the cool drops of rain on his bare skin.

Arthur couldn't stay here.

He pushed himself up, barely noticing the little helping hand of the brownie beside him, and limped to the back door. It was already opened for him. Careful not to slip on the floor from the water dripping off him, Arthur rested against the closest counter to over come his dizziness.

"That was harsh."

Pushing his soaking wet hair out of his eyes, Arthur glared towards the devil. Alfred was leaning in the doorway, smiling casually. He looked completely relaxed but there was a tension in the air. Damn bastard was going to get it when Arthur reached his room.

"Why are you here?" Arthur asked coldly. "And where is the real America?"

Alfred pouted. "You're not happy to see me? I was happy to see you."

"Answer me."

"He's fine. He's currently rolling in a pit in Hell. You know how it is ~"

Arthur gritted his teeth. Messing with dark magic made it clear to what kind of torture America would be going through. Not that he cared but still. It wasn't pretty and no one deserved that treatment. There wasn't going to be anyone else to help get America back either.

"Bring him back."

"Why?" Alfred blinked, looking genuinely confused.

"Listen here, you blunt bloody twat. You cocked up big time if you think I'll just let you wonder in and do as you bloody well like! Well, that's not going to happen. You bring that prat back here or -"

A hand went over his mouth. The relaxed smile on the devil's face was gone. "Shut up," he said in a dark tone. Arthur could feel something sharp digging into his cheek but didn't back down. He pulled back and turned his head, giving Alfred a dark glare.

With the Englishman silent, the devil smiled again. "I'm sorry," he apologised, pressing his hand down beside the counter to trap Arthur in place. "I didn't mean to be harsh. I only came to see you."

"You've seen me. Now go."

Alfred pouted again and leant in, seeing Arthur tense up. "I want to see more of you," he whispered delicately in Arthur's ear. "Let me help you out of those wet clothes and warm you up. You might catch a cold."

"Oh I get it now. You came all this way just to get me in bed," Arthur said sarcastically, placing his hands in front of himself to keep some distance between them. But it did no good. Alfred was already pressed too close for comfort. The devil was teasing his lips down the side of Arthur's neck. The warm breath on his cold wet skin was making his toes curl.

"Precisely," Alfred whispered.

"I-i was joking."

"I'm not."

Arthur shut his eyes tightly as the devil began to lavish his neck with kisses. The warm contrast on sensitive skin was making Arthur's head rush all over again. His hand grasped Alfred's shirt to keep upright. The kisses ran from his neck and along to his shoulder, Alfred pulling the soaking wet shirt away. The Brit almost whined with frustrated need when the American stopped and glanced back at him.

The devilish smile was back. Before either said a word, their lips met in heated passion. Every common sense in his body was telling him to back away but the buried lust was too strong to fight. He wanted Alfred and he wanted him now.

Alfred's head jerked forward, instantly ending their make out. The devil turned around with a sharp gaze and Arthur could see the remains of his jam Victorian sponge cake dripping down the blond locks of hair. A pastry was thrown straight into the devil's face this time. Panting, Arthur wiped his mouth dry and looked over Alfred's shoulder to see his friends by the fridge - throwing everything they could at him.

Snapping back to reality, Arthur's hand patted across the counter until he rested upon a squeezable bottle. He flipped the lid and pointed it straight at the American. As Alfred wiped the food away from his face, he looked back at Arthur only to receive more. Only this time, Alfred fell back, hissing in pain as though acid had been thrown instead. Curious, Arthur peered at the bottle's label.

Marmite.

That was Alfred's weakness?!

Hearing the pleas of his friends, Arthur took the chance and ran around Alfred. His ankle pain no longer bothered him.

Alfred hissed louder, his fingers almost clawing at his face to attempt to remove the poison. It didn't help with Arthur's friends throwing the remains in the fridge at him. Temper reaching its peak, he straightened up. Crystal blue blazed his clawed hand. With petrified glances exchanged, the magical community vanished on the spot.

The devil wiped his face clean on the back of his sleeve, not caring for his smudged glasses, and then continue his search for the Briton. Cautiously checking the door for enchantments, he pushed it open and stepped inside.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said in a sorrow filled voice. "I only wanted to see you."

Arthur did not look up until he completed the circle and its chalky symbols. Brushing his hands clean, he gave Alfred a scornful expression. "Why would I believe anything you have to say? You're nothing but a black-hearted devil."

There was no mistaken the playful smile. To Arthur's horror, Alfred stepped into the circle and closed the space between them again. "You forgot that this is not my form. I can pass through your spells." His smile grew at Arthur's angry expression. "Or maybe you knew that and only playing hard to get? A little payback?" He didn't give Arthur time to reply. Their lips met in fleeting kiss. "Let me lavish you," Alfred whispered, "Let me have you for one day and then I'll go. I_ swear_."

If this was the only way to get him to leave... "You're the worst," Arthur groaned, yanking Alfred down for a more passionate kiss.

* * *

"Are you sure this will work?"

"Of course. Your bond to the vessel is far stronger than its forged bond to the prick."

Alfred sat cross-legged upon the hard stone floor. It was making his bottom feel cold and uncomfortable so he was constantly shifting around. Or so he thought. It was that or accepting the fact he was really uncomfortable with being so close to the devil that's toyed around with his damn life. But first thing was to get away from him. Then he'll find a way out of this mess.

"What happens if it does work?"

The devil turned upside down, his hair falling far enough to hide most of the tiny horns on his head. "You'll be sent to limbo. It's a neutral zone. He'll be there too. What happens after that depends purely on you. Either way, I'll be expecting one of you to drop - "

Arthur switched back onto his front and dropped his legs down to the floor. His head crooked back a few inches and his eyes fixed upon a spot on the ceiling. Something big was happening for the creature's expression changed to one that Alfred couldn't quite recognise.

"What is it?" the country asked, placing a hand down from his knee to the floor, ready to push himself up if needed.

"You'll have to be quick. Time is about to pass you."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you, didn't I? If they have sex then it's game over for you. Well, guess what's now happening!"

Alfred's mouth went dry. No way. Britain,_ the_ Britain, was going to have sex with him – no, not him. A devil in his body. It made his blood boil. He couldn't accept that! There was no way an impostor was going to -

"Quit it! I told you to focus!"

"All right! Sheez."

America closed his eyes again and tried to think about his body. His pure-blooded American body... that was currently pressed against England's. He could feel a lump forming in his throat as he thought about the flushed cheeks Arthur would have and the sweet tingle left behind on his lips after every french-kiss. Hands would stroke all over while Arthur groans beneath him and Alfred would take great satisfaction in knowing that he could make Britain do that.

He could hear his heart beating in his chest. This was so wrong. He had to focus on getting back! Back to his rightful place... where Britain would be begging for his -

"Would it help to ease your mind before you continue?"

Alfred swallowed hard and kept his eyes stubbornly closed. He could feel a pair of arms link around his neck and a finger brushing the back of his neck. It jerked his body closer and left behind a tingle in his spine. Alfred whimpered. Lips brushed his and he hungrily leant in.

After a playful tease of his tongue, the devil coaxed Alfred into opening his mouth. A throbbing sensation grew in his pants. Seeing nothing but darkness, Alfred pictured Britain closing against him. He could feel the breath between each sloppy kiss and a hand creeping closer to his regions. Yes, he begged, let him touch it.

He didn't protest as the devil eased him down onto the floor. He hissed from the coldness against his back. A hand slid under his ripped shirt. Alfred forgotten how exposed he was. The devil's mouth drifted to his neck. Alfred inhaled sharply, his groans now free to fill in the room.

He never thought such impure thoughts of England before but now, it was like a long time wish being fulfilled. "Wh-what's going on...?" Alfred stammered. His body was heating up under the devil's hand: every flex on the wrist was making his member twitch with excitement.

"It's a shared response," the devil whispered, "They're feeling the lust and so do we."

Arthur's hand crept closer to Alfred's groin until it was suddenly snatched in a tighter grip than intended. Alfred bit his bottom lip. If they were feeling this heated up then the clock was ticking down. "Then we need to hurry," he said, pulling the devil back slowly. "Tell me what I have to do."

The red-head gave him a piercing stare before backing away. Self-control was difficult to master but the two managed by avoiding any further glances and touches.

"Sit up," Arthur ordered, returning to his book. "Focus and I can get you there. The rest will be up to you so don't screw up."

"Gotcha."

Ignoring the raging passion passing through his body, Alfred sat up and took a deep breath in then closed his eyes. Focus. Focus on his body. Focus on saving his country from the devil impostor.


	8. Chapter 8

"Your timing needs work."

Alfred opened his eyes. He scanned around for a source of the sound and saw the blue-eyed copy a few feet away with his hands tucked into his jacket. The devil no longer appeared intimidating. It was no longer a mysterious figure haunting his every minute. It was a sinner, a tormentor, a male temptress, a creature of pure evil, but America was no longer afraid.

It knew that and smiled.

"So this is limbo," Alfred commented, peering around at the cloudy whiteness surrounding them.

"It goes by many names."

"Then let's call it Georgia," America cut in. "Like in the song."

The devil grinned. "I don't play the fiddle."

"Neither do I. But it's never too late to learn."

Neither moved. Alfred calculated his chances. They mirrored each other flawlessly minus a few extra details the devil bore like the fangs and horns. Alfred raised his right hand. The devil raised his left. A physical battle was going to be difficult; it knew his moves and his methods. How could he beat someone who was him?

"If you want to spare yourself the agony of losing, I'll let you surrender now."

"How heroic of you," the devil teased. "Unfortunately for you, I like it up there. I'm not quitting now."

America cracked his knuckles and approached. The devil didn't move even when Alfred grasped his shirt and raised his fist. "You leave my body alone and get back to hell or I'll -"

"Or you'll what?" The devil mocked, "You'll hit me? I'm so _scared_. Do your worst. I look forward to it." The devil came closer, inches from America's face. Its grin was posed to show off the sharp fangs that could easily rip out his throat. America prayed he'd never looked so twisted. It wasn't becoming of a hero.

"Are you fucking dumb? You don't know what is going on," Alfred said coolly, taking pleasure in seeing the devil's eye twitch upon hearing the swear. "Thanks to your fuck up, I'm in the debt of the devil dick down there. **We're** indebted to him."

"And you believed him?" His devil counterpart sighed. How could they both be so heavily tied together? It made him want to cringe. He didn't. The devil remained completely calm, burying his disgust deep down for now. "I do not own him anything. That's all you."

"But -" Alfred gritted his teeth and balled up his fists. If this was his devil, then he'll put him in his rightful place! The creature did not expect the punch. That was a lie. He expected it. What he didn't expect was the sheer power behind him. The devil laid on the ground, several feet from Alfred. There was a tickle of black blood running from his nose and dripping into his open mouth.

It didn't move.

Alfred stamped his foot down upon its crest, taking pride in the crunch sound beneath his boot. "You son of a bitch, I'm going to kick your fucking ass back down to hell where it belongs."

The devil looked up. His glasses crooked and blood trickled from his nose. He laughed. "Then enough talk," he said cruelly, his eyes blazing. "Let's end this now."

* * *

Arthur panted heavily as he dragged the unconscious nation across the room and into the circle. "You're a bloody fool if you think I was going to submit so easily," he muttered, dropping hold of America so he sprawled out on top of the symbols. The circle wasn't big enough to surround him; his legs were sticking out and a hand. It didn't matter.

England wiped his mouth and leant against the wall. His body was flushed hot and still carving for physical touch. The bastard could tease all right. There wasn't a mirror in the room but Arthur was certain his neck would be covered with faint red markings.

That was so close. So very close. England went over to the spell book and flicked over to the page he was searching for. He stared briefly at the nation on the ground to ensure he wasn't about to wake up and then began the enchantment. Green lights rose from the circle and danced in the air before sinking down into the nation's body.

When the spell was finished, Arthur got down on his knees and pushed his thighs together tightly. The devil's touch was still lingering. He wanted to go to the bedroom, or even the bathroom, anywhere he could have privacy and take care of the growing problem in his pants. He couldn't... not until he was sure Alfred pulled through.

There was a weak groan from the circle. Arthur watched cautiously as America sat up, rubbing his head. "Oh, fuck. What happened? Where am I?"

"America?"

"Britain? That you?"

"Who else would it bloody be?!"

"Chill dude."

Arthur sighed and slouched against his desk. Thank god. It was America all right. He didn't need a mirror to prove it right. Finally, it was over with. That prick wouldn't be back for a while.

"Hey, Britain, you don't look so well."

O-oh bollocks. Arthur flared up and placed his hands over his groin to cover up his embarrassment. "I-it's your fault! If you hadn't let your devil take you over like that then he would have never – THIS IS YOUR FAULT, I HATE YOU!"

"ME?! WHAT DID I DO? I WAS STUCK IN HELL!"

"EXACTLY! YOU DAMN TOSSER! I WAS LEFT ALONE WITH HIM!"

"I DIDN'T HAVE IT EASY EITHER. YOUR DEVIL SNOGGED ME!"

"I – WHAT?!"

"Errr..." Alfred trailed off, his face going as red as Arthur's. "It was... only a little kiss but..." Alfred swallowed and then looked over at England firmly. "Would you... really have … you know..." He pushed a finger into a fist to show his point. "Woohoo?"

"Woohoo? What – oh. I..."

The two avoided looking at each other. Once the shock wore off, Alfred could feel the warm tension left over in his body from when the Devil toyed around. Arthur was just as aroused, if not more. Shit... Of all the awkward situations he had to come back to. Should he go upstairs and hide in a shower or...?

He didn't hear a shifting sound draw closer to him. "Hey... Britain... if...we... you know... it..."

He got his answer immediately. Arthur tugged him forward and their lips pressed together. In the mist of the light bites on the lips, he could feel Arthur's lips slowly parting and eagerly, perhaps too eagerly he later scolded himself, went in to take the kiss to the next stage. Their lips locked perfectly with the others. Alfred felt a sudden shock of excitement course down his spine when Arthur's tongue lightly stroked across his bottom lip. The fire inside was rekindled.

Arthur was leaning against him. He shifted around and moved onto his knees to give himself leverage over Alfred. But it wasn't going to happen that easily. He took hold of Arthur's leg and kept him in place while Alfred turned the tables around and hovered over the Briton. He grinned down as Arthur opened his mouth to protest but he was silenced with another kiss before he could even finish a sentence.

Alfred could feel Arthur's hands pressing against his chest in attempt to make him pull back so he could take charge. He had great pleasure in denying Arthur that by taking his hands and holding them down against the floor with the kiss now picking up in speed and pressure. Jolt after jolt of electrifying excitement pulsed through his veins.

It was a rushed job getting the clothes off. Alfred's glasses were pulled away by his shirt but he didn't stop to put them back on. The hips were rutting against each other like animals in heat. Neither slowed down.

Arthur gasped as Alfred attacked his neck, lavishing every inch with soft bites and harsh sucks on the skin. With their members exposed, Arthur grasped slipped his hand in-between them to tease Alfred's erection. One little stroke with a finger was followed by another slow stroke. Alfred's body trembled and he groaned weakly - giving Arthur the perfect moment to switch them over again.

Alfred's back arched when he felt the cold stone floor. Chalk from the circle was smeared over their sweaty naked bodies. The American ran his hands over Arthur's shoulders and back, dragging his nails along the skin in pleasure as his lower back arched up against Arthur with each stroke.

"S-stop teasing..." Alfred complained, reaching down only to have his hand slapped away.

"Let's finished this then..." England whispered before bringing their lips together in another heated kiss. Alfred felt the annoyance melt away instantly. The fingers stroking him grasped around the two erections. Their hips jerking desperately to meet each motion and pull of the hand.

"Aaahhhh!" Alfred gasped, taking a deep shuddering breath. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling a familiar burning sensation rising inside as he reached his long sought release. He barely noticed Arthur taking the same pleasure; the results dripping down onto the American's hips.

The two laid there; staring at each other, feeling each other's breath upon their lips, swearing their hearts were beating loudly enough for their partner to hear.

"Hey... Britain..."

"Yeah...?"

"Can you move? The stone is... kind of digging into my back."

"O-oh. Sorry."

Arthur shifted off Alfred so the latter could sit up. Alfred stretched out his hand and felt around for Texas then pushed them back onto his face. Strangely enough, it didn't feel half as awkward as he imagined. Sure, he had many one night stands in the past but not with someone he'll constantly see later on.

"I'm never going to be able to shake off the feeling he's there, watching me."

"You'll get use to it. Heck, you'll probably forget about it within a few months," Arthur said idly. "They all do in the end. It's how they down below like it. The greatest fear is of the unknown."

"Wait, everyone has a devil down there?" Alfred cringed, pushing his glasses further up. "So there's... hundreds..."

"There are moments where the devils make themselves known. It's usually in the darkest of times. Then, when it passes, so does all memory of them."

"So why do you remember? How do you know about them?"

Arthur just smiled. "Let's get cleaned up."

"And never speak of this again?"

"You'll forget by the end of the month. Just like everyone else incapable of accepting what happens beyond their beliefs."

It was for the best. They were nations and toying around would only end in disaster. But, Alfred thought as he left the room with only his pants on, he didn't really want to forget all of it. Maybe he could remember this night? It would be great to fantasy about on those long, cold, and lonely nights.

* * *

The tip of a riding crop stroked against the devil's face. It crept underneath the glasses and lazily flicked them off to the side. The devil's eyes were bright: the red iris more noticeable. The gag within his mouth kept it stretched wide, the fangs posed and ready to strike should something foolishly get close.

"You're a fool to think I would allow you to freely wander the mortal world," the red-headed devil purred, pressing a heeled boot against the other's chest. "And even more so to think I would let you get so close to my little country. He's not your play-toy, and now you're mine. And how delicious you look, lying there tied and bounded, a cornered rodent awaiting death."

The American devil's eyes fixed upon the other devil; his eyes blank as if uninterested and bored. Arthur's sly smile widened.

"Look at you. I could get use of seeing you lie beneath me. Like scum." The riding crop stroked the bonded devil's nose. "How do you like that, _Alfred_? Being beneath me. In your rightful place."

Alfred's mouth widened. A hiss emitted.

"I'll remove his debt if you wish. Allow you to take it all. There's so much I would have you do... and you'll love every second of it."

A louder hiss.

The red-headed devil laughed and yanked up Alfred up. "You're mine now. And we have many years to work off that debt. So how about we get started?"

There was a loud snap that made him flinch.

The riding crop broke in half and fell onto the floor, along with the scraps of metal from the chains previously binding him. Arthur was pinned down roughly, a ravenous and pissed devil holding him down. Alfred smiled cruelly and leant in, his teeth grazing Arthur's neck.

"I knew," he said delicately, "I've always known."

"Then why did you agree?" Arthur demanded, holding back a shiver of fright. "Why did you go?"

"To see England." Alfred's tongue ran along Arthur's neck, tasting the uncertainty. "I'll get him next time. Till then... I'll finish you off." His fangs grew sharper and then plunged deep into the throat.

* * *

**Author's Note: I would love to thank everyone who made it to the end of the story. I also like to give special thanks to; elizabeta H. Austria, 01blackcat02, and CartoonCouples101 for kindly taking the time to leave a review after each update. I wish you all the best. x**

**Once more, this story is dedicated to VillainEdward. I hope you enjoyed it, Villy!**


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